Shotguns Keep Their Pie Hole Shut
by the little spanko
Summary: Sam is teasing Dean about just getting SPANKED by their father. Set during series. Written for the 2012 Summer Challenge for Team Discipline for SPN Spankings.


"Dean, whatteryou layin' on your stomach for?" Sam asked with a smirk as he walked into the motel room.

"Shuddup bitch face," Dean grumbled, knitting his brow together.

Sam giggled and started packing his bag.

"You know, it's kinda nice not being the son in trouble for once," Sam continued conversationally. "Being gone for college really seems to of….oh, I dunno...changed things around since I've been gone."

Dean's head slowly turned towards Sam, glare firmly in place.

Sam saw the glare, raised his eyebrows and continued packing with a snort.

"You know, _maybe_ if you hadn't…"

"SHUDDUP Sammy. …she was hot," Dean groused.

"Did you even get with…"

"SHUD-DUP SAMMY!"

Sam stopped packing and turned towards his brother, "So not worth it, dude."

The door to the motel room flew open and John strode in and tossed Sam the keys to the Impala, gave Dean a stern glare, picked up a duffle bag and stomped back out, the door closing loudly behind him.

Sam's eyes were wide as he looked at the keys, and he couldn't help the jubilant smile he shot at Dean as he held the keys up like a trophy.

"Dude, I think you just got _grounded_!" Sam laughed.

Dean hunkered down deeper into the pillow he was squeezing under his chin and growled, "I said shut up."

Sam laughed out loud, but quieted quickly when their father re-entered the motel room.

"Stop pouting," John told Dean. "I'm going easy on you."

Dean's eyes widened at that, and a real pout did form on his face as John turned to Sam.

"Sam, I hear there's a poltergeist out in Branson," John started, handing Sam a newspaper. "Two people have been killed…."

John stopped when he heard a long huff coming from his eldest. He turned slowly, fixing a shocked Dean with a glare. "You have something you wanna say?"

Dean blinked at him a few times and then found his courage. Standing up he said, "Just because I screwed up once," and he held up one finger, "_once_, doesn't mean you should be explaining a case to Sam. I'm lead when Sam and I hunt together, that's the way it works. That's how we stay safe."

Sam's mouth fell open as soon as Dean had started talking, and he tried to help his brother by shaking his head at him – but Dean seemed intent on digging himself a hole with their father today.

John let out a tired breath and ran a hand over his face before putting both his hands on his hips. It was then that Dean seemed to take note that he should of kept his mouth shut. His eyes widened, brows went up and his lips sort of puckered as he gave his father a confused and frightened look.

"That's what you taught me," Dean sidestepped, "right Dad?"

"Dean," John growled and then stopped himself, running his hand through his hair this time before locking eyes with his oldest. "Now son, I don't know what exactly has gotten into you today but it had better stop right now. You want a round two?"

"No," Dean said, his eyes going even wider. "No sir," he took a step back.

John gave a halfhearted chuckle, though it was still clear he was more than irritated. "This case is a good eight hours away and you boys need to leave now. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you just laying on your stomach from the spanking you already got today?"

Dean looked at his shuffling feet and muttered a barely audible, "Yessir."

"Eyes up, and let me hear you," John ordered.

Dean met his father's gaze, "Yes sir."

John nodded, "That's what I thought. Now, you really wanna be sittin' up in the front seat driving for eight hours right now?!"

Dean looked stunned. His gaze fell back to his shoes, "No sir."

"Eyes _up_, Dean."

Dean flinched and looked up, his face red. "No sir, I don't really wanna be driving right now."

"Wouldn't it be best that the driver have the details about where they're driving to?"

"Yes sir, that'd probably be best," Dean said and then tried to sneak a glare at Sam, who was at this point holding a hand over his mouth and trying not to laugh.

John turned and gave Sam a warning look, and Sam straightened up immediately after giving his father his puppy eyes.

"Eyes on _me_, Dean," John told him and Dean complied immediately. "What's with you today? You seem to be going out of your way to piss me off. That's not like you."

Dean shrugged, unable to keep eye contact with his father.

"You know what I think?" John asked.

"What's that?" Dean asked, a little worried about what his father was going to say.

"I think you're doing this on purpose. Trying to make me stay by making stupid mistakes and leading me to believe that it isn't safe for you boys to be on your own," John said, standing a little straighter.

Dean pursed his lips and then ventured, "…so, would that work?"

John looked at Dean sadly, "Dean, you know what'll happen to people if we stay together. That'd be only half as many cases worked."

Dean swept his hand in front of him as though he were physically brushing the suggestion away, "I know. I know, look its cool. …so, about this job in Branson?"

John gave Dean a sad grin as Sam piped in, "I'll tell you one thing, we're not listening to classic rock on the way. 'Shotgun keeps their pie hole shut.'"

John chuckled and looked back to see Dean's expression, which happened to be a pretty good impression of a John Winchester glare. Sam giggled. Dean huffed.

John turned back to Dean, a little more serious, "Now Dean, I need to know that you're gonna stop this shit. I don't need to be worrying about you while I'm off hunting."

Dean honestly looked hurt by that, "I know, Dad. I won't screw up."

John nodded and then opened his arms, inviting both boys in for a hug. They quickly obliged him, and for one short moment, all was right in their world.

"I gotta get back out there, I got a lead I need to follow up on," John said, and then he was gone.

Sam and Dean looked at the motel door as they listened to him drive away.

"Dude, you aren't playing that nineties shit…" Dean started.

"Shot gun keeps their pie hole _shut_," Sam said, grin in place as he picked up his bag and walked out the door.


End file.
